


Nuevo Jalisco

by xtricks



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Ghost Rider (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Series, maybe a little character development
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 05:55:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15767964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtricks/pseuds/xtricks
Summary: Trip’s assigned field work in East LA.  He takes a little time off to make time with a hot guy he finds in a dive bar.





	Nuevo Jalisco

**Author's Note:**

> This is set pre- series and after my story: After School Special

SHIELD, like the police, like the FBI, CIA and most every alphabet agency was mostly white guys with crew cuts so, when they needed someone on the ground in East LA, Trip found himself volunteered.

“Y’know I grew up in Oregon and wouldn’t know a ‘gang sign’,” Trip made exasperated air quotes as he spoke to his SO. “If Ice-T himself came along to show me one.”

His arguments made no difference, and theirs sorta made sense, since the other agents were even more uptight than he was.  Trip was in the field in a week and it had been a additional fruitless, frustrating week of dead ends when he ambled into  _ Nuevo Jalisco  _ in search of a drink, some air conditioning, and maybe a low key way to make some contacts.  It was a gay bar, but he’d known that from the start. Kinda the point, really, since gay gangbangers - nervous about their macho - were easy to manipulate and it was near enough to southeast LA where he was working.  Too many unfortunate people were dying in a variety of unfortunate - and usually fiery - ways, it had to stop. He was here to do that.

Two weeks and all he had were legends -  _ the  _ legend - Le Leyenda and whoever was behind the stories sure knew how to put the fear of god (or the devil) in folks used to killing each other over street corners.  The guy (or group, Trip’s private opinion) even had graffiti artists tracking his kills. He was LA’s version of Batman - with added murder. Everyone in the neighborhoods around here knew about the Devil’s Driver but no one claimed to know who he was.  Or what. It was technically an FBI case but SHIELD had loaned Trip out in case it was more than just a serial killer with a flare for the dramatic.

_ Nuevo Jalisco  _ was a change of pace and the only kind of tension Trip was looking for today was the sexy kind.  Unfortunately,  _ Nuevo Jalisco _ didn’t look to promising - calling it a dive was a compliment.

It was afternoon and slow as hell; a Mexican couple drinking cheap beer (all the beer was cheap in  _ Jalisco _ ) with the easy silence of old lovers, a few guys sitting near the tiny, grimy dance floor arguing loudly in Spanish, and a fidgety guy at the bar.  He was the odd one out; he might be blue collar and Latino like everyone else here but Trip would bet his SHIELD shield that this was his first time, or maybe his second, in a gay bar.  He was drinking to work up his courage. Youngish, Trip thought, and pretty damn hot, actually. Slightly dorky ears but gorgeous cheekbones, jesus. There was gonna be a line out the  _ door  _ for this guy, when he put himself out there.  Right now though, he was fiddling with his shot glass and looking a little lost.

That brought back  _ memories _ .  Trip gave in to impulse and abandoned his table to take a seat at the bar next to the guy.  The bartender traded his empty bottle of Modelo for a full one. “Want me to buy you a drink?”

The guy gave him a quick once over that Trip answered with a smile and watched the bob of his throat when he swallowed hard.  “Uh,” he squared his shoulders like he was setting up for a fight. “Sure. Yeah, yeah. Sure.”

“On me,” he told the bartender, nodding at the empty glass.  “Maybe not from the bottom shelf this time? Let’s live a little.”

“Name’s Trip,” he said after a little pause and an encouraging lift of his brow.

The guy threw back his shot of slightly less cheap-ass mezcal.  “Robbie.”

No last name but considering how nervous Robbie was, Trip wasn’t surprised.  He wouldn’t be surprised if his first name was fake too, though there wasn’t the usual subtle bobble most people had when they tried to pass of a fake name as their own.  Trip didn’t care, he wasn’t here to psychoanalyze the guy. He was here for some strings free sex.

“You want something more than a drink?” Trip went on, but gently.  He didn’t think flirting would do any favors here and some combination of the guy’s nervousness - oh, he was probably a queer  _ virgin  _ and that was an embarrassingly hot thought - and simmering charisma made Trip want to be the one who blew this guy’s mind, and maybe his cock.  He smiled, letting his gaze linger on those hands, and tuck of Robbie’s mouth, and those freckles scattered across his nose. He leaned back too, inviting Robbie to take his own look.  “‘Cause I promise, I’ve got something more  _ substantial  _ if you’re interested.”

Color rose hot to Robbie’s face but he took up the challenge, giving Trip a longer look as his tongue darted across his lip to let Trip know it wasn’t just bravado that made Robbie nod seriously at him.  “I could go for more than a drink.”

“Great, man,” Trip grinned and laid some cash on the bar.  “Let’s get outta here. These drinks scare me.”

Robbie laughed, he sounded sadly rusty on that, and the bartender didn’t bat an eye as he took the money and piled the dirty glasses into an overflowing bucket.  LA’s sun hit like a blow when they stepped out of the bar and Trip fished out his sunglasses. “I’ve got a place or -?”

“Your place is fine,” Robbie said quickly, ducking his head in something like apology.

Trip shrugged it off.  “No worries, man. I get it.  My pace isn’t too far, right down Vista and then a few blocks.”  He reeled off the address - they were going to be skin to skin soon enough, giving him the location of his cover home was no big deal.  He beat Robbie there and leant against his stoop until Robbie rolled up in -

“Holy hell!   _ That’s _ your car?” Trip came down to meet him and, yeah, that car.  He wasn’t much of a car nut but it was impossible not to be impressed.

Robbie’s grin was all pride as he hopped out of a pristine, jet black, gorgeous Dodge Charger with shining chrome and perfect leather seats. “I’ve got a few surprises.”

“I change my mind,” Trip made sure his smile told Robbie he was joking.  “I’m going to invite your car in. You can hang out on the sidewalk.”

This time Robbie’s laugh was warm and genuine.  Looked like the way into his pants was his car. “Pretty hot, huh?”

“I thought so.” Trip winked.  Okay, so maybe a little flirting for the new guy.

Robbie had a little swagger when he came up to crowd Trip pleasantly at his doorstoop.  So, being gay on the street didn’t bother him which made Trip’s investigative mind curious but he promptly pushed that aside.  They weren’t here for thinking. It didn’t matter why Robbie had held off hitting up guys for so long when he clearly wanted to.  This close, looking into his eyes, seeing the wide pupils and the parted lips, it was really obvious Robbie wanted to. Wanted  _ Trip  _ and that was always a heady turn-on.

“Yeah, well, my car doesn’t put out for a couple of cheap drinks,” Robbie’s gaze flickered, color rising, but his voice dropped to a rasp that went right to Trip’s cock as he went on.  “But I do.”

“Thank god for that.  Come on,” Trip fumbled open the door and hustled Robbie inside and to his apartment proper.  Anticipation made him hard already, and a glance over his shoulder and down let him know he wasn’t the only one.  Robbie caught him looking but Trip just smiled.

His apartment wasn’t much and Trip hadn’t lived in it long enough to give the fake set-up much of a sense of home.  Something about it seemed to give Robbie brief pause and his look at Trip this time was assessing in a way that made the skin prickle on the back of Trip’s neck, like Robbie was seeing much more than Trip wanted anyone to know.  That dark look was gone so fast he couldn’t believe it was real. It was easy to get paranoid working for SHIELD, and much harder to have casual sex.

Robbie’s next words were more of a damper than a half-imagined suspicion.  “Look, I don’t kiss and I don’t do small talk.” He sounded like he’d rehearsed in front of a mirror, at least, until the last part.  Robbie’s eyes widened like he was surprised at himself as he blurted breathlessly. “I just wanna suck your dick.”

“You know you’ve got some hang-ups, right?”  Handsome or not, Trip was about a minute away from kicking this guy right back out.  Nerves were fine, uncertainty was okay. Flat out denial was a hard stop.

Robbie had the decency to look embarrassed, rubbing his face and sighing.  “Yeah, I know. Look, it’s got nothing to do with you, man. I just ...” his mouth turned down like he was used to frowning.  “I never thought I’d man up enough -”

“To get with a man?” Trip finished, his irritation fading but ignoring Robbie’s demand of no small talk.  “What changed your mind?”

“Someone being a hell of a lot braver than me,” Robbie said bluntly.  “And thinking ... what kind of example am I being, huh?” He shook his head.  “I don’t wanna be that guy.”

His honesty, instead of some obnoxious bravado, went a long way to easing Trip’s worries.  “Okay,” he stepped forward and cupped Robbie’s face in his hands. Robbie’s lashes fluttered as he blinked nervously.  “You don’t wanna be that guy?” Trip leaned in and whispered against Robbie’s supposedly forbidden mouth. “Then don’t be that guy.”

Robbie’s sparse little mustache was prickly under Trip’s lips when he kissed him lightly.  Robbie shivered all over, leaning up into Trip’s mouth, breath catching. Trip took all that as a  _ hell yes _ and kissed him again, more insistent this time, catching Robbie’s lower lip in his teeth for a nip, chuckling under his breath as Robbie gasped.  He took advantage of that open mouth, tasting Robbie as he slipped his fingers through his short hair.

Robbie’s hands slid along Trip’s waist, fingertips finding their way under his shirt to smooth along his sides and give Trip a shiver of his own.  Robbie broke their kiss to press his head against Trip’s shoulder with a sigh. It sounded like relief. “Guess I’m not that guy.”

Trip smiled and smoothed a thumb along those cheekbones, down to Robbie’s lips, teasing him until he sucked the tip of his thumb into his mouth.  “Know what that means?” Robbie’s gaze was hot and unfocused, biting with just enough edge to make Trip’s hard cock throb eagerly.

“That means you get to suck my cock,” Trip went on, and Robbie groaned long and low, hips surging forward to press against Trip, sucking hard when Trip pushed his thumb into his mouth.  “Yeah, you wanna get on your knees for me and put that mouth where we both want it?”

Robbie was down before Trip finished speaking.  “Fuck yeah.”

Trip was easy, he liked to pitch and catch, top or bottom, play sweet or a little rough but - man, he had a  _ weakness  _ for a guy on his knees.  Robbie looked damn perfect down there, ratty Valvoline t-shirt, worn sneakers and all. He had his cheek pressed to Trip’s palm, eyes closed, and Trip could feel his nervous breathing, it was a hot and tender moment - a mix that made Trip’s heart ache nearly as much as his cock.  He had Robbie’s first time in his hands, and Trip remembered his own - all the nerves and awkwardness and the  _ care  _ his first male lover had taken to make it good, make memories Trip still looked back on with warmth.  He was determined to pass it forward.

“You look great down there,” Trip said hearing the heat in his own voice, easing his hand free so he could get his pants open.  Robbie’s eyes flicked up to his, then back down as the zipper chirped. Trip pushed his fly open, groaning a little as his cock was finally free, bobbing enthusiastically up between them and making Robbie start a little. 

“You weren’t lying about  _ substantial _ ,” Robbie said huskily.  His brows were drawn in uncertainty, lips parted in eagerness.  He had one hand cupped over his jeans, fingers pressing at his own cock.  

“I never lie about sex,” Trip promised.  He meant it too. He lied for a living, but not about this.  He had to have some honest place in his life, where what he meant and wanted was  _ real _ .  Running a hand along his cock, Trip cupped Robbie’s chin in his hand.  “So, wanna say hi to your new best friend?”

Robbie chuckled roughly, swaying back then forward, following the light urge of Trip’s fingers.  “I don’t have a funny comeback for that. But I bet I don’t need one.”

He leaned forward again, opening his mouth and looking up at Trip in a way that made him shudder, pre-come suddenly welling from the dark tip of his cock.  Robbie’s mouth closed on him and it was clear he’d never done it before. Like every other first timer, Robbie tried to swallow Trip down all at once, immediately coughing his way back up, spit drooling down his chin and over the crown of Trips cock.

“It’s not a hot dog eating contest.” Trip murmured and smoothed his hand over Robbie’s short hair, then slid his other hand along the length of his cock until he was gripping just behind the flared head.  “Use your tongue a bit.”

“Looks a lot easier in the videos,” Robbie grumbled, which made Trip laugh - until Robbie licked slow and hot over the head of his cock and Trip’s laughter was lost in a groan at the slick, delicious feel of it all.  Robbie used his tongue and seemed pretty happy about it while Trip locked his knees, teased his fingers along Robbie’s scalp, and murmured encouraging instructions.

Soon enough, Trip was panting and Robbie’s head was bobbing steadily as he took about half of Trip’s cock with each stroke.  And he was loving it. His eyes were closed again, and that tuck in his brow wasn’t irritation but focus - like Robbie didn’t want to think about anything else but his lips around Trip’s cock, about the taste and feel and heat of it all.  If Trip had to put a thought to it (and really, he wasn’t doing much thinking) he’d guess Robbie had spent a lot of lonely time jerking off to videos and was making up for lost time on Trip’s cock.

“You’re gonna be great at this,” Trip crooned, easing forward, fingers under Robbie’s chin to coax him up, open, to let big crown of his cock nudge against the back of his mouth until Robbie caught on and swallowed  _ just  _ right and - Trip cursed, hips surging irresistibly forward - Trip’s shaft slid down and,  _ so fucking good _ , down.  Robbie’s moan was muffled, his cheeks hollowing as he reluctantly let Trip pull back again, dragging in a ragged breath before he dove in for another try, then another.  He was flushed hot red, one hand pressed over the fly of his jeans the other clamped on Trip’s thigh for balance. “Robbie ...” Trip breathed, balls drawing tight, full and he was so close to ready.  “Get your cock out. Work yourself for me ... so damn hot.”

He meant it, the LA sun had slid down and washed through the apartment’s windows, molten along Trip’s back and Robbie’s eager mouth was a different kind of heat - wet and sweet and eager.  Trip was being pulled closer and closer to climax, all from Robbie’s mouth and gorgeous hunger. His inexperience, the occasional awkward graze of teeth, or cough, didn’t make any less perfect.  Maybe made it better, Trip getting to give this guy something he wanted so badly. It was a hell of a turn-on.

Robbie grunted, letting go of Trips cock long enough to unzip and wrestled himself free, his cock was taunt and hard, nicely sized and the head shiny with pre-come.  Robbie gave Trip a quick, heated, look, pulling his hand up his cock. “Don’t pull out,” he was a little hoarse. “I want you to come in my mouth.”

Trip squeezed his cock tight.  “ _ Fff  _ \- open your mouth ‘cause I’m about a second away from coming all over your face ..!”

Robbie did, expression heavy with raunchy hunger.  Trip’s breath left him in a rush at the sight, his hand flailing for a grip on Robbie’s shoulder as he shoved his cock in, head sliding along the curl of Robbie’s tongue, and he couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t even  _ try _ .  He was coming with a raw cry, so quick and hard it almost  _ hurt  _ and spurting into Robbie’s mouth, then across his chin and chest when Robbie choked and Trip’s cock bounced free.  The sight was enough to make Trip’s cock jerk and spurt out a last bit of come, streaking along Robbie’s perfect cheekbones.

“Don’t come,” Trip gasped, squeezing Robbie’s shoulder tight as he felt the jump of his arm as he worked himself.  “Don’t you come, I want a chance at that cock of yours.”

Robbie was swiping a hand across his face, breathing heavily.  “You better fucking hurry up then, ‘cause I’m way too close.”

Trip pulled on Robbie’s t-shirt until he stumbled to his feet and they both staggered to Trip’s bed, pants undone, clumsy and grabbing at each other as they went.  “Lie back,” Trip told him gruffy.

Robbie sprawled on his bed was something to see, needy cock lying along his belly below his rucked up shirt, staring up at Trip with dark eyed urgency.  Trip crawled on top of him, pausing to kiss his messy mouth, then bite Robbie’s throat hard enough to make him groan and jerk under him. He pushed Robbie’s old shirt - real poverty, not carefully curated hipster ‘wear’ - higher and trailed his fingers along tawny skin and hard muscle.  “You must work out every day with these abs.”

“Nah. Just work,” Robbie said, hands brushing over Trip’s head, not pushing but ... suggesting that he should get down to work.

Trip was at Robbie’s cock now, wrapping a hand around it, feeling Robbie throb in his hand.  He had a great cock, nicely hefty, the head flushed red, and the taunt heat letting Trip know Robbie really was close.  Just were Trip wanted him. He dipped his head to kiss the tip of Robbie’s cock, licking up pre-come and squeezing gently at the root.  Robbie moaned, twisting on the bed and clutching Trip’s sheets. “Do it,” he gasped, pleading. “Suck my dick. Jesus, c’mon.”

Trip licked a long, broad line down the length of Robbie’s cock, then lower to suck on his balls.  Whatever Robbie was gasping now, it wasn’t words and he had one shaking hand on the back of Trip’s head, thighs shuddering against his shoulders.  His wordless whine was desperate.

Trip had mercy.  He retracted his path with tongue and lips, taking his time despite Robbie’s frantic squirming. When he got back to the top, Trip eased his mouth over the jaunty head, and kept right on going, slow and steady and easy, relaxing into the nudge against his throat, taking all of Robbie’s cock in a single wet stroke.  That was all it took. A long shudder wracked Robbie, with a drawn out cry and Trip rode him as he arched, come pulsing into his mouth as he held on and swallowed, and  _ swallowed _ , and took everything Robbie had to give him.

He crawled back up, squirming out of his pants as he went, to lie next to Robbie where he lay - eyes closed and still breathless - on Trip’s single pillow.  In profile, the setting sun turning everything gold, he had the face of a man who frowned a lot. Right now though, Robbie looked peaceful, slack and half asleep. Trip kept any curiosity he had behind closed lips.  LA wasn’t an easy place for anyone, what Robbie did with his life was his own business. 

“Move over,” he said sleepily. “I’ve only got one pillow.”

Instead, Robbie grunted and rolled to sit up, rubbing his hair and then his mouth with a yawn.  “I gotta go.”

“Bathroom’s through there.”  Trip said, then couldn’t help himself.  “Work?” It was the middle of a weekday, if Robbie could prop up a stool in a bar, he didn’t have some 9to5 job.  

“There’s always something.” Robbie muttered with a grimace as he went to wash up.

Trip sat on the edge of his bed and eyed Robbi’s jacket where it lay forgotten on the floor while the water ran in his little bathroom.  His training overcame his better nature and Trip carefully fished around until he found Robbie’s wallet. Not much cash, no weapons, a flip phone, and a creased LA Driver’s License with a few years to go before expiring.  Nothing else, nothing personal, and that was another little alarm bell in Trip’s mind. Robbie’s pockets looked like his. 

“Robbie  _ Reyes _ ,” he murmured. Hillrock Heights, right in the middle of the Devil’s Driver mess.  Much as he’d rather not mix business and pleasure, Robbie would be a great contact to have in his pocket.

He was in the kitchen nook, still without his pants, when Robbie came back out.  “Want a soda on your way?” Trip held up a coke above the fridge door. He watched Robbie tuck himself back in and zip up with a little regret.

“Sure.” Robbie said, looking awkward.  He took the coke and gathered himself. “Uh, look ... thanks.”  He flushed. “I mean ... it was good. And I know I’m kinda a jerk.”

Trip winked.  “This time, that was bonus.”  

Robbie laughed.  Again, like a man who didn’t do it much.

“Y’know,” Trip kept it real casual, real careful.  “If you want to be a jerk again ... I’m up for it. Or down for it.  Whichever.”

“I dunno,” Robbie fidgeted, but he was obviously tempted.  

Trip leant against his chipped formica counter, letting Robbie take another look to remind him of what he’d be having on tap if he said yes.  Trip soothed his own guilt by reminding himself that Robbie was great to have sex with and that was mostly what he was interested in. If Robbie helped him get oriented to LA and fit in better, that was a bonus.  He swore to himself he wouldn’t push anything. He couldn’t tell if he was using sex as an excuse to work Robbie like an asset, or work as an excuse to keep hooking up with him. “Lemme give you my number and you can call if you want - and not if you don’t.  No strings.”

“But, man, the  _ Jalisco  _ is out.”  Trip finished.  “It’s not even a dive, it’s like scraping something off the bottom of your shoe.”

“Yeah, it was pretty bottom of the barrel,” Robbie shrugged.  “But we lucked out, huh? Anyway, I gotta go.”

“Sure.  Gimme a call if you want.”  Trip bit the tip of his tongue to keep from saying anything else.  Even so, he wasn’t sure he hadn’t pushed too hard with the way Robbie gave a sharp shrug, expression shuttered.

He wasn’t one for goodbyes either, just turning and walking out.  A few moments later, Trip heard the rumble of the Dodgers engine, then that too faded away until there was just the late summer sun and the smell of sex in his sheets. 

Trip wasn’t sure he even wanted to see Robbie again.  The memory of him on his knees was too bright, too perfect, to tarnish with SHIELD’s damn insistence on  _ using  _ everyone.  Maybe he’d just do a quick check on Robbie, find out he was no one special and be able to just relax and have a small piece of his life that SHIELD didn’t own.  Robbie was probably just what he looked like, a poor guy in LA, with his own baggage and trying to get by like everyone else.

“Not everyone I meet is a double agent or a space alien,” Trip muttered. “Sometimes a hot guy is just a hot guy.”

END (8/22/2018) 

  
  



End file.
